


the hour before the sun sets

by florieneofthesea



Series: this world we set on fire [2]
Category: Storm Hawks (Cartoon)
Genre: Final Battle, Gen, Just want to communicate how wild it is that they put kids on the frontline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florieneofthesea/pseuds/florieneofthesea
Summary: When they used to sit down at the end of the day, on the grass with blankets spread and snacks laid out, all they could see was a molten ball of light. The sun sinking into the horizon and the stars that chased its brilliance. A deep orange-red would wash over the skies moments before it disappeared beyond the mountain range.Moments in the lead up to the final battle.
Series: this world we set on fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963522
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	the hour before the sun sets

**Author's Note:**

> Some more thoughts on our favourite bird family :))

When they used to sit down at the end of the day, on the grass with blankets spread and snacks laid out, all they could see was a molten ball of light. The sun sinking into the horizon and the stars that chased its brilliance. A deep orange-red would wash over the skies moments before it disappeared beyond the mountain range. 

There was colour in the wind. Sometimes it was the sweetness of the air, or of burning logfire and melted chocolate. Sometimes it was just the dusty scent of summer that clung to their clothes. Rattle bugs would skitter in methodical rhythms about in the trees in preparation for the night, the fireflies would dance and the occasional bird would settle at the peak of their tree house, wings folded in rest. Ships would pass. Some silent, some thrumming. With old energy and a laziness comparable to a great beast in the depths of Terra Deep.

Finn and Aerrow would start naming the stars they saw, laying claim to every one that hadn't been there the day before and arguing over respectable names to give the heavenly bodies. She'd roll her eyes and try to explain that the stars weren't constant and that they moved every day. The pair would try to find the stars they named yesterday, laughing and scrambling for the inaccurate charts they kept pinned to the walls. Sometimes she'd sigh and huff because they were idiots, sometimes she'd join in and name one after herself. _Piper Astralis_ , or something like that. 

When they used to sit down at the end of the day, possibility touched everything the eye could see. Now, all she could see was dust and soot and the flames of the sun burning with anger, illuminating her best friend before darkness fell. Now, the world in front of them was a narrow strip of uncertainty. Aerrow was still and silent and it was still hard to believe it had barely been three years since that one moment on Terra Neverlandis, where the world seemed so much more forgiving to lost children. He looked older, haunted, grim.

They're at war, and this is the end. She can see the toll it takes on him, the responsibility as the spearhead in this operation, the newest symbol of hope the Atmos has for liberation, a mere nineteen year old boy. It’s hard to remember, he’s barely a fifth of the way into his life. Beyond him, Piper sees smokestacks from distant mines, and catches glimpses of the heat of the Wastelands below. There's colour to the wind, sure, but its ash and soot from imperfect fires and it strangles the soul.

She shudders as she approaches. "Hey," She says, rubbing her shoulders. The air hasn't felt this cold in a long time.

Aerrow jumps a little, arms uncrossing, "Hey," He replies and it sounds more like a sigh of relief. He's teetering on the edge of the Condor, and for a moment she thinks he might jump and let the night take him.

But she knows better. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," There's a surprising amount of reassurance she hears in his voice, "Is something wrong?"

"No no! Everything's going well, all the squadrons have been updated on the plans–"

Aerrow smiles, "That's good–" She rambles on, his words pass over her head in a flurry, "–Finn's been finishing up the last few missions and Junko and Stork are done with all the necessary repai– oh actually it turns out one of the engines on Suzy-Lu's cruiser has been having chronic issues and they have to find the materials to fix it quickly since we don't have enough parts because the battle's tomorrow and–"

"Piper–"

"–there's been a few distress calls in the area nothing too big but I think we need to be really careful because we can't afford any major losses–"

"Piper it's okay–"

"–and we really need to conserve our energy otherwise we'll drop clean out of the sky tomorrow and– oh no, did I forget to recharge the fuelling crystals I think I forgot–"

"Piper!"

She takes a half-step back in surprise and has to take a huge breath to steady herself, hand automatically pressing over her chest to keep herself from rattling off again and she closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the air whistle by. She needs to calm down. A firm pressure on her shoulder makes itself known, squeezing comfortingly, and she feels a little embarrassed now. After all, she was supposed to be helping him, not the other way around.

Still, the weight on her shoulders is a comfort. "Piper, breathe," He says softly and she inhales , "You never forget to recharge the fuelling crystals."

Piper laughs a little, and finds herself looking at a familiar smile. The evening air seems sweet somehow.

"Sorry," She mumbles finally.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, I know there's a lot going on right now, it's okay."

"I just wanted to know if you were feeling alright."

Suddenly she's afraid to look up at him. Selfishly she thinks, for the briefest moment that she doesn't want to share in whatever misery he's keeping to himself, she doesn't want to be on the frontlines of a war whose origins they can no longer remember. Piper berates herself for that, and the thoughts burn away in an instant, she knows who she is, why she's here and she knows who she walked out to comfort today and when she looks up, Aerrow is grinning, boyish and bold.

"Oh come on, you know me," He says it so convincingly that she almost believes it. Piper snorts instead, blowing a strand of her hair away, "You know what I mean."

"I know," He says earnestly, "But we've come so far, we're okay."

"Aerrow," She feels like a mother now, half exasperated half endearing, "Be honest now, are you alright?" He makes an imperceptible shrugging motion, ready to lie and she's a little peeved that after so many years of knowing each other he even dares to try. She folds her arms and raises her eyebrows, scrutinising his actions and she can pinpoint the moment he falters, mouth closing guiltily and finally meeting her eye. "Well?"

He exhales and turns away, "Not everyone's going to make it tomorrow.”

"We're at war Aerrow."

"I know I know, I just wish there was something else we could do, anything else."

"You're saving more lives like, you know that right?"

"I hope I do," He chuckles but it doesn't quite seem real, "But what Finn said the other day...is there really no other way?"

"I wish there was, but we've tried and even if we wanted to come to...I don't know, an agreement, we can't speak for everyone else. This is so much bigger than just us, than the Storm Hawks."

"So we fight?"

"So we fight."

He snorts, "It's all we're good for I guess," He says as he sets himself down on the edge of the landing strip and for a moment she sees them again, on Neverlandis, dangling their legs off the terra and complaining about the summer's heat.

They lapse into silence. Piper's not even sure if she can even remember a childhood free from the reaches of war, or a smog whose sole purpose was to choke the life from her lungs. She sees it most in Finn, who's childish obsession with some things is both grounding and a painful reminder that they are young, and they are fighting a war that has never had a clear distinction between good and evil.

"We can end this tomorrow," She offers and she realises she's really not much good at this comforting thing, she should've called Finn.

"We could," He agrees, "But what if we can't?"

"Aerrow–" "Piper I'm supposed to lead Atmos into battle tomorrow, I'm going to be telling people to die."

"No," She says firmly because this has to stop, "No you're not, you're going to be telling people to fight, to win, to finally be free."

"I don't know Piper," He began, "It's– it just seemed a lot more doable three years ago, ending the war."

She settles beside him, knees bumping into his, "You've done a lot in three years though. You've united the Atmos again, the Sky Knights and their terras stand with you, they support you-"

"Us, Piper, it was a team effort, remember?" He's grinning a little as he reminds her and she huffs. "Alright, us, they support us. They trust us, and we trust you, you know that right? Tomorrow, we fight so no one ever has to again, you said it yourself, we've come so far already."

"We have, haven't we? I haven't wrangled chickens in so long, I almost miss it." She smiles and bumps his shoulder, Aerrow laughs. They watch the clouds pass by.

"Thanks," She hears and turns her attention back to him, "I needed that."

"Feeling better?"

"Much better," He's grinning again and she stands as the sun slips below the horizon line, the red in the sky bleeds to night, the stars and their celestial fuel blazing in the space above them. She watches the last bits of colour fade before she faces him again. Maybe she's not as bad at advice as she thinks. It’s warmer somehow, despite the rapidly decreasing temperature and the increasing winds. The smokestacks draw nearer as they pass a mine, the fires deep in the belly of the landmass eat through inefficient fuel and cough up abominations into the sky. She thinks to the magma crystals, to the firebolt, their raw power and heat nearly unmatched, but for all their fury, they are nothing but false fires in comparison to the most dangerous element in all the Atmos. 

"Get some rest Aerrow, it'll get cold soon."

The Condor clears a large, soft white cloud and below them the Wastelands opens its jaws, melted iron swirling at its core, threatening to swallow them whole and burn them to nothing.

"I will," He says firmly, rising from his spot on the edge of tomorrow and when he turns to wish her goodnight, Piper sees real fire.


End file.
